


slightly less of a mystery

by beenomorph



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Gunshot Wounds, Other, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 20:04:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11320719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beenomorph/pseuds/beenomorph
Summary: They were a puzzle, and though before she’d never had much of the patience for puzzles, they were one she intended to solve.





	slightly less of a mystery

**Author's Note:**

> this is kinda... supposed to be an unrequited crush type thing btwn them but u can read it however you want. i wrote this like 5 years ago and its finally seeing the light of day, apologies if zer0 is misgendered at any point in here since i wrote it before they/them was canon

To be entirely honest, she hadn’t even ever expected to see them outside of their suit in the first place- she was  _ just fine  _ with the getup, as it altered her perception of them only in making them significantly more mysterious and intriguing. They were a puzzle, and though before she’d never had much of the patience for puzzles, they were one she intended to solve.

She hadn’t, however, expected this stage to come _so fast._ She had expected more banter, an eventual rapport, perhaps a few comedic situations, maybe even a huge solo mission or something that would only serve to bring them closer together or...or something, something other than this. The two of them had just returned from a short mission- in fact, she barely even classified it as a _mission-_ in reality, they’d just went to clear a local bandit hideout and hoped to find some intel about the vault location- but alas, they’d turned up dry, and her head was still buzzing from the adrenaline of the recent fight. “ _That_ was fun,” she insisted with a dreamy sigh, brushing off excess dirt from her clothes and absentmindedly rubbing the joint of her mechanized arm. “Eh, Z?” she said loudly, turning on her heel to face them and placing her hands on her hips. 

They were unusually quiet, which was to say, far quieter than usual. Though normally, it was quite rare for her to be able to coax much out of them as far as conversations go, post-mission they were usually talkative enough to offer a few one-word responses, or half-hearted chuckles, or one of their trademark haikus. She had even,  on occasion, gotten lengthy responses, consisting of more than one sentence that  _ wasn’t  _ in verse. They were small victories, but she reveled in them, positive that she was slowly chipping at that whole mystery ninja façade they were so crazy about.

Or, at least, she was  _ pretty sure  _ it was just a mystery ninja façade. To be entirely honest, for all she knew? They could just be  _ like that.  _

“You okay, dude?” she asks, cocking her head.they were partially bent over- strikingly different from their usual posture- and their thin, alien hands groped at the surface of one of the many strong-boxes littering their sanctuary HQ. They simply grunted in response, working the box open with a disproportionate amount of effort and released a light hiss and quickly threw aside the empty box. “Uh, yeah, I think I saw Axton empty that one out earlier today-- _oh!”_ she gasped in alarm as they stumbled, and instinctively took a few strides forward, holding out her arms to assist in steadying the assassin twice her size. She halted, however, hovering a distance away. If there was _anything_ she’d learned about Zer0 in the time they’d spent together, it was that they _hated_ to be touched. “Didja get hit or something? _That’s_ new. I--” she paused again, cocking her head to the side a second time and knitting her brows as she noticed, finally, their three-fingered hand clutching at a now-visible tear on the side of their suit, groaning and taking another cautious step forwards, “Damn, Z, why didn’t you _say_ something?” she sighs, shaking her head. The aforementioned mysterious, lone-wolf ninja thing was cool, she’d admit, but their outright refusal to seek outside help would be her undoing, probably. Or, more realistically, their undoing.

They simply shrugged in response, then, before she’d really had a chance to offer assistance or a med-hypo or anything, really, they jerked upright.  They moved their hand from their wound, which allowed her to get a better look at it- though it was still partially obstructed by torn folds of thick material, she could tell it was bad- it looked like they’d taken the business end of a bullet, or something equally bad, and the blood flow didn’t really seem to be stopping any time soon. 

“Medkit. Far cabinet, bottom right.” they said shortly, and she faltered, her eyes locked on their hands, their weird-ass fuckin’  _ hands,  _ as they lightly tugged at the material around their neck. She watched, eyebrows raised, as they pulled away different components and layers of their suit with astonishing speed- she had, in fact, never noticed all the different clasps and fastens to their suit, and she would imagine that it would take her quite some time to manage to fully remove the whole thing- not like she’d ever  _ thought  _ about it or anything.

“Gaige?”  they urged after a moment of silence, a  **_‘?’_ ** appearing briefly on their facial display.

“I- what?” she said, tearing her eyes from their hands and up to the black expanse of their facial display, “Oh! Medkit. Right. I was... ah, I was on  my way,” she said, spinning on her heel, and the various things she had clipped around her waist clinking in response, hoping that  they didn’t notice the red that she was near-positive was accompanying the heat she felt on her face.  They probably noticed.

_ Noticed what?  _ She thought, kneeling forward and busying herself with the search through the cabinets,  _ Me?  _ Blushing?  _ Nah, that didn’t happen.  I mean, really, Gaige, the  _ Mechromancer,  _ doesn’t  _ blush.  _ A ridiculous notion, really- aha!  _ Her robotic arm whirred as she shot forward, clutching the white box and inspecting it, yes, this was the medkit. She stood, taking a steeling breath,

“Uh,” she said, oh-so-eloquently, “Um,” she added, pulling the box a bit closer to her chest, “Are you, uh, like, cool with me turning around, or whatever? I mean, should  I just, throw it back to you or something? Do you want me to-”

“ _ Gaige, _ ” came their impatient response, and she nodded. 

“Alright, okay, I got’cha,” She said, mostly to herself, and turned around, faltered, staying firmly put while awkwardly fidgeting with the clasp to the plastic box she held firmly in her grasp.

She hadn’t heard them move, but  they had-they were now sitting slouched in a chair nearby the door (she recognized the chair, it was the one that Mordecai always sat in-- it always smelled like dirt and booze and was probably low on the list of Clean Environments That Are Safe for the Injured Assassin to Sit On), and had managed to pull the door closed. their mask was still on, as were their pants, and the garment- or garments- that had once covered their torso were laying in a haphazard heap by their chair. Her eyebrows raised as she watched their chest rise and fall with short, shallow breaths, her lips parting into an  ‘o’ shape.

Other than the still-bleeding wound on their side, the first thing she’d noticed was their  _ skin.  _ It wasn’t the right color, she’d immediately thought, and in such expanse it couldn’t just be a trick of the light. She wondered what color it would be if they were _ n’t  _ pale from blood-loss, then momentarily berated herself for considering it, because, after all, this was probably just a one-time thing. What even was  _ this,  _ like, seriously, what were they doing? Now wasn’t really the time to ponder it, though, but that made it no less curious.

The last thing she noticed was that they were a robot. _ Or, wait, _ she corrected herself,  _ cyborg is the pc thing to say, right?  _

Their robotics were a lot more subtle than hers, she’d give them that, but they were still there, interwoven into unnaturally dark flesh and subtle patterns, silently whirring and ticking and moving and-- 

“You’re, ah, you’re--” she said, floundering, desperately attempting to hide her admiration. 

“Yes.” they interrupted, voice quiet, strained. She made her way to their end of the room with a few quick strides,  kneeling beside them to inspect their wound. Her hand, the one that wasn’t metal, shook. She couldn’t help, however, admiring the tech up close- the parts that were more obvious, organically-shaped plates that shifted and moved with nearly astonishing smoothness, gently curving around their sides and other places where she’d assumed they’d received some sort of grievous injury, if the time-paled scars that littered their torso had anything to do with it. She wondered, momentarily, if she could ever build something like this.

“Wow,” she breathed, quietly, and their breath hitched,

“Staring is impolite,” they said, simply, snapping her back into her reality.  _ Come on, Gaige, they aren’t an attraction,  _

_ But that doesn’t mean  they aren’t   _ attractive,   _ though. _

_...Wait, what? _

“Yes, okay, yeah,” she said in response, shifting her weight to her knees and straightening her back. “Alright,” she muttered to herself, opening the first-aid kit.  “You took a bullet, right?” she looks up at the wound, rolling her eyes, “Yeah, duh, of course you took a bullet, that much is obvious, right? Why didn’t you have any...medpacks or anything...” she trailed off, using her robotic hand to prop them up, gently, while using her organic one to carefully prod their back. Another  **‘?’** appeared on their facial display and  they tensed- her fingers were probably cold or, more than likely,they weren’t used to having fingers on them in the first place.

“I was just checking,you know, for an exit wound. Gotta cover all my bases,here, you know?”

“Do you not think that,”  they said, voice raspier than usual, “I would have told you if there was an exit wound?”

“A haiku!” she said, nervously chuckling, “Not your best work, though.”

“I know,” they groaned as she eases them back into the chair. 

She was surprised, genuinely, by how well they were taking it-- not to say that she expected  _ them _ to cry and kick wildly (Much like she had done the first time she’d sustained a bullet-wound), but she’d certainly expected a tad bit more yelling or swearing.

That’s what she got from Axton, anyways.

She took another breath before gently prodding at the wound, earning a light hiss from Zer0.  _ Not so stoic now, huh? _ She shook her head, furrowing her eyebrows. It was  _ messy,  _ but it didn’t seem too bad, not really. She could already tell that it hadn’t hit anything major-- their fatigue from earlier was, most likely, just due to blood loss. Cleanup isn’t  _ quick,  _ but it’s generally hassle-free-- she manages to get a few grunts and muttered expletives from Zer0, but not the level of theatrics she could use to blackmail them with later, which was lame. She was pretty sure, for a while, that hey’d passed out during her stitching, but they were antsy to get up and move as soon as she’d slapped the  bandage on them.

“Hold your horses, dude,” she said, standing up straight and cracking her back, “There’s no way you haven’t been shot at before, you should know what’cha gotta do by now,” she heard them huff a sigh as she continued, “You know, lotsa rest, making sure the wound gets  _ air,”  _ she said pointedly, and  they responded with a simple  **_‘:(‘_ ** on their facial display. She stuck out her tongue at them as they stood, albeit shakily, and began to dress themself again, “Sucks to be you,” she responds, taking another look at their mechanics before they were hidden in the folds of his suit. She busied herself momentarily with cleaning up the mess, biting her bottom lip absentmindedly.

“Gaige,” she heard them say hesitatingly, and she lifted her head to respond when she felt their thin hand on her shoulder, a fleeting gesture of physical contact unheard of from them-- “Thank you,” 

She floundered for a moment, opening her mouth to say something, then hesitating. 

“It was nothing--” she begins, turning around to an empty room. She huffs, blowing a stray lock of hair that had fallen into her eyes away, and resumed gathering the supplies, light smile playing on her lips.

 


End file.
